A very Supernatural Hunger Games
by SuperSaphiraWhoLock
Summary: When Sam get's reaped for the Hunger Games, Dean volunteers without hesitation. But he's not prepared to die just yet. Has a little Destiel. Based on a Tumblr post that gave me the idea. Rated T for language
1. You lean against a tree

**Hello! I am starting too many fanfictions lately, but since I'm keeping them all up, I decided antother wont hurt anyone ;) I hope you like it, it is based on a tumblr post and whoever thought of this is a genius, I hope he/she wont mind that I worked it out.  
I mixed up various characters, keeping alot of SN ones and keeping alot of HG ones.  
Enjoy!**

**PS- John and Mary are still alive. both of them. I WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY FOR ONCE.**

* * *

_You lean against a tree._

"Sammy, wake up boy, we need to get ready." Dean shrugged the twelve-year-olds shoulder. Samuel Winchester was a small, skinny boy, even considering that he lived in District 12.

"Come on, Sammy, mom has a bath ready," Dean tried to convince his brother that it was worth it to leave his bed today.

Sam pulled the blanket over his head. "I can't Dean. I don't want to come out of bed today."

Dean slipped his hand under the blankets and softly rubbed Sam's back.

"They won't pull your name Sammy, this is your first year, you're in the bowl only once. Plus," Dean grinned, "don't you want to see what that Trinket girl has done with her hair this year?"

He let his fingers run through his brothers hair and got up.

"Get undressed and hurry Sam, otherwise I'll go first and I worked the night shift in the mines." He took a step back, this little trick always worked, his brother flung the blankets off him and jolted down the stairs, throwing his pyjama's off as he ran into the kitchen.

Dean heard his mother, Mary, catch the boy: "Hey Sammy," she laughed, "Are you ready to take a bath?"

Dean walked down the stairs and joined his father, who was rinsing the black coal dust off his arms.

John sighed: "All throughout Panem, children are getting ready for slaughter." He looked his son in the eyes. "I don't want to risk losing you Dean, and I don't want to risk losing Samuel."

Dean nodded: "You won't dad. I'm only in there five times and Sammy once. We're not rich, but we don't need tesserae like other kids in my class. I mean, Jo is in there nineteen times. For once, I think the odds are in our favour."

John dried his hands on an old towel smiled at his son. The boy was barely sixteen and already so painfully wise.

"You make me a proud father boy,"

When Sam was done, Dean quickly bathed too, thinking about what his father had said. 'Proud'. John never said that to him before. But then, they didn't see each other an awful lot. John worked the dayshift, in the bigger, broader paths through the mines and Dean the nights, in the small openings that you had to crawl through, so he could go to school during the day. It was only for today's reaping that everyone had worked the nightshift. The mines would be closed for the rest of the day.

When he was drying himself, his mother entered the kitchen with a white blouse and black trousers.

"You'll look very handsome in these," She smiled. Dean saw that it wasn't her usual, happy smile, it was her, I-have-to-stay-strong-for-the-boys smile. Sam was standing behind her, in a smaller version of the white blouse and black trousers. They used to be Deans. They used to be Johns. Their family lived on hand-me-downs and stale bread.

Out on the town square, the official anthem of Panem played, calling them to assemble. The reaping was about to begin.

Dean buttoned up his blouse and grabbed Sam's hand. The boy looked scared.

"Aren't mum and dad coming?"

Dean smiled reassuring: "They will be there too, but not now, we need to enter first."

Sam nodded and followed Dean outside. There were children everywhere, holding hands like Sam and Dean, strolling alone, kissing their parents goodbye. But they were all quiet and they were all heading to the town square. There was no laughter, except for the occasional cold hearted drunk that placed a bet on what child would get send to the games this year.

Before they parted, where Dean had to stand in the line for sixteen year olds and Sam in the one for twelve year olds, he kneeled down before Sam.

"Okay Sammy," he said, straightening his brothers collar, "This is what's going to happen: we're going to stand in line and when you get to the front, they are going to prick your finger with a needle, it won't hurt that much, okay? They need a little blood to make sure you are really you."

Sam nodded, still with that scared, frightened look in his big hazel eyes.

"Then you are going to do what the peacekeepers tell you to do, okay? They want you to stand all the way in the front, with your classmates and I'm standing in the back, with mine." Dean got back on his feet and wiped the dust off his knees. He wanted to push Sam the right way, but the boy turned around and asked him: "Why can't I stand with you?"

Dean smiled. "Because those are the rules Sammy,"

Sam hugged Dean, burying his face in Deans blouse. The boy barely reached up to his chest. Dean ran his fingers through Sam's hair.

"I'm scared, Dean," the boy muttered into Dean's belly.

Dean knelt down again so Sam could look him in the eyes.

"Sammy, you are not going in that Arena, whatever happens. You hear me Sammy? Don't be scared."

Sam nodded.

Dean patted his back. "Okay, let's go! I'll see you later, right? I heard mom made cake for tonight."

Sam smiled and walked away: "Bye!"

In the line, at the square, Dean kept close tabs on Sam.

That until Effie Trinket, district 12's one and only escort, made her entrance.

"Welcome! Welcome! Welcome!" She smiled, "Happy Hunger games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

"O my God," Ash whispered into Deans ear. He had a point. For this year's games, Effie had dyed her hair navy blue and she was wearing a short dress with a lot of lace, matching the colour of her hair, of course.

"Her legs though," Dean grinned. Ash nodded, but they turned silent when Effie had finished her speech and started the reaping.

"As always," she said in her usual high pitched voice, "Ladies first!"

With her long, slender fingers, she picked one card out of the girls bowl. Tension rose when she slowly opened it. She read the name, smiled and walked back to the microphone.

"Joanna Beth Harvelle!"

A shriek from the group of parents.

"Poor Elle," Dean sighed.

Ash nodded: "I know man, first her husband gets shot for hunting and now her kid gets send to the games."

Jo walked up to the stage, escorted by four peacekeepers. Her head was held up high and a tear ran down her cheek. Dean could see she was chewing on her lips.

Effie smiled: "Lovely! Can you tell all those people watching in the Capitol a little about yourself?"

Jo scraped her throat and swallowed. "Well," she said, "My name's Jo. I'm sixteen and, ehm, my dad got shot by peacekeepers. I live alone with my mum."

Dean chuckled silently at Effie's shocked face. Secretly he had a deep admiration for Jo. For her strength and her stubbornness. He knew that she hunted too, the girl didn't work in the mines and she fed her family.

Well, what was left of it.

Effie let Jo's shoulder go. "And now for the boys."

She walked to the other glass bowl, with the boys names in them. Effie dug her hand all the way to the bottom and pulled a card out, she opened it slowly, walking back to the microphone.

Dean's heart was beating in his throat. Not because he was afraid that Effie would call his name.

He didn't give a shit about his own life, but he was terrified that they would call…

"Samuel Winchester!"

Dean knew that Ash was staring at him with a shocked look on his face.

"That's impossible!" he whispered.

Two guards pulled Sam out of the front row.

"Dean?!" his voice was higher than usual. He sounded panicked. That sound, the sound of a boy who was counting on a promise his brother made, pushed Dean over the edge. He clenched his jaw and ran out into the aisle, pushing his classmates aside.

"Sammy?" he yelled. Two peacekeepers grabbed his arm, "No!" he pulled loose.

"I volunteer!" he yelled. His voice was a little more unstable than he would like it to be, but it worked, the peacekeepers let him go.

He ran to Sammy and knelt down again. He was doing that a lot today, kneeling. "It's going to be okay, Sammy, go find mom and dad. Okay?"

Sam nodded with a tear stained face. He returned to his spot in the line.

Dean got up slowly, brushing the dust off his trousers. He marched up to the stage, where Effie was standing, clapping enthusiastically: "A volunteer! Ladies and gentlemen, District 12's very first _volunteer_!"

Effie put a hand around his shoulder and squeezed friendly.

"Well, aren't you a handsome young man!"

Dean said nothing. He searched the public for his mother and father. They were standing on the far left, his mother buried in his father's chest, his face turned away. She couldn't bear the sight of it anymore.

His father looked him in the eyes. Dean saw a collision of pain and pride. He nodded.

_Family first,_ he seemed to say.

Dean noticed Effie was talking to him.

"I'm sorry?" he said.

"I asked what your name is," she smiled.

"Dean," he answered, "Dean Winchester."

"And the small boy, he is your brother right?" she asked, still smiling.

Dean wanted to punch that smile off her face so badly it ached.

"Well, we do share the same last name." Dean shrugged.

Effie laughed. "And he's funny too!" she said to the camera.

She turned him and Jo around, and peacekeepers guided them into the Justice Building. Dean could hear her 'Happy Hunger games' one more time before the doors closed behind them.

The peacekeepers locked them in separate rooms. Dean knew that this was when his 'loved ones' could come to say goodbye. He waited for almost an hour, sipping water from the glass that was waiting for him and pacing up and down the room.

The doors busted open and John, Mary and Sam ran in.

Mary immediately flew around his neck: "I love you Dean," she said muffled. Her cheeks were wet and her eyes were red.

Dean hugged her back: "I love you too mom, it's going to be fine, just keep Sammy safe, please."

"We promise," John said. He knew how much Dean loved his brother. The kid had practically raised him in the time Mary and John both had to work in the mines to stay alive. It was only this year that Mary and Dean had switched places.

"Promise me you won't sell Sam's name for tesserae." Dean asked.

John grinned: "Promise. But we don't need to, because we'll be living in Victor's Village next year."

Dean swallowed hard. "I don't know dad. I have no skills. I have never killed anything."

John nodded: "You'll be fine. Listen to your mentor and whatever happens in that Arena, we're behind you."

"Thanks, dad," Dean nodded.

He noticed Sam was tugging his trousers.

"What's up Sammy?" he asked. His brother hugged him. Dean felt he was crying.

"Hey boy, you've got to stay strong. Who else is going to take care of mom?"

"Dad?" Sam said softly.

Dean chuckled. "But dad has to work in the mines all day long."

Sam took a step back and nodded, reaching in his pocket. "I was going to give you this on your birthday but, well…" his voice died away.

Dean smiled and opened the small, brown bag. There was a necklace in it, a golden devil, with horns and all, hanging on a black cord. Dean hung it around his neck, hugging his brother one more time.

"Thank you Sammy, I love it. But don't worry, I'll be back soon. Right in time for your birthday."

That moment the peacekeepers came back in and ordered his family out of the room, leaving Dean alone.


	2. As you wipe the blood off your blade,

**Hello everyone! new chapter update, please review, I'd like to know what you think about their mentor (my sister was sort of pissed I replaced Haymitch, but I think this is a better combination with Dean.**

**Everyone who reviewed, thank you! that is really a drive to keep you writing.**

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_As you wipe the blood off your blade,_

"And for our Tributes, only the best!" Effie paraded into a small dining room. The train that would bring them to the Games was speeding through the landscape.

There was a man wearing a baseball cap sitting at the table.

"And this sweet man is your mentor," Effie smiled, "He will teach you everything he knows about the Games and make you into winners!"

The man got up. He had short, dark grey hair and a scruffy beard. Unlike all the other people that had been to the Capitol often or had been born there, he was dressed sober, in jeans and a plaid blouse. "Well, I never managed to do that before, otherwise there would be another Mentor."

Dean shook the man's hand: "Dean…"

"Winchester, I know you." The man said, "My name's Bobby Singer. I used to be an old friend of your dads."

He had moved on to Jo before Dean could ask him what he had meant by 'used to'.

"Dinner time!" Effie whirled her hands around as she walked through the room, followed by three people in white clothes. The way Effie walked reminded Dean of a peacock.

They sat down and Dean patiently waited for the servants to serve the food on their silver plates.

"Thank you," Dean smiled friendly to the man who served him a slice of pork.

The man didn't respond. He turned away from the table and waited in the corner of the room, like a statue.

"You're not supposed to talk to them," Effie whispered to him, like he was a five year old. "They're Avoxes, got their tongues cut out and they have to serve the capitol for the rest of her lives."

"Why?" Dean asked. His spoonful of mashed potato floated between his plate and his mouth.

"Because they're traitors. They had a fair trial and this is their punishment." Effie shrugged.

"That is inhumane!" Jo protested.

Bobby nodded. "And there is nothing we can do about it. The Capitol makes the rules, not the Districts. Eat your dinner."

Dean and Jo silently obliged. They didn't mind eating dinner, Dean hadn't had any meat in weeks, maybe months, and Jo was always hungry.

After dinner, Bobby sat them down on a couch that was softer than Dean's bed back in 12. Dean closed his eyes and for the first time in a long time he was full and satisfied, warm and cosy.

_Getting send to the Games has it's perks,_ he sighed.

That, until Bobby punched him in the stomach.

"Stay awake boy! Lesson one, the other Tributes."

Dean crawled up in the couch and tugged on his blouse.

"I thought you wanted to win," Jo laughed.

Dean clenched his jaw, thinking about Sam and the way Effie called his name, he grew angry again. He was going to win, he couldn't leave Sammy behind.

"I am going to win," He growled.

Jo laughed, but she silenced quickly when Bobby turned the telly on.

Caesar Flickerman was on, sitting on a chair that turned and holding a stack of cards. He had dyed his hair a dark shade of green this year for the Games.

Jo chuckled.

"_Happy Hungergames!_" Caesar laughed his remarkably royal laugh, "_Today, everywhere throughout Panem, one courageous young man and woman have been reaped or have volunteered to participate in this year's Hunger games!_"

The crowds cheered.

"_Let's take a look at this year's Tributes_."

The screen changed to a town square very similar to the one in 12. Another Justice Building, an escort, bowls.

"_I volunteer!_" A girl, alethic, muscular and tall. Her name was Ruby .

Then a boy, a volunteer too. Michael.

The boy from 2 was also a volunteer, his name was Gordon Walker and he looked very prepared to rip your throat out.

"I bet you money he's going to be the Alfa in the Career Pack." Bobby raised his beer.

"How much money?" Jo joked.

Dean just nodded. He knew that the Career Pack was usually an alliance between the strongest Tributes. The Tributes that had trained their entire lives for the Games and the ones with outstanding combat skills or talents.

Jo, Dean thought wry. Her hunting and tracking skills would be appreciated very much in the Pack.

He himself, with nothing but 'his eternal love for his brother' to fight with, would probably die before the slaughter at the cornucopia was over…

The tributes flew by, boys, girls, volunteers, children that were pulled away from their parents.

The male tribute from 7 stood out to Dean too, he was small for his age, although he was muscular.

_7,_ Dean thought,_ Lumber. He probably runs around with an axe all day long. Joy._

Their escort, a fat man with the usual, weird capitol clothes, called his name.

"_Castiel Novak!_"

Nobody cried for him. Nobody called his name. He just stood there, staring blankly into the crowd. Didn't even react when the girl tribute, a good looking redhead named Anna Milton, wrapped her arm around him.

Jo laughed: "Well, he's not going to last long. He'll probably just stay stiff on his pedal until someone slits his throat."

Dean scraped his throat. "That's not funny Jo."

"Well okay grumpy." Jo shrugged.

"It's almost as if we're going to die, is it?" Dean growled, without taking his eyes off the screen.

Jo got up, "I'm going to bed,"

Dean didn't react.

Boy from 8 was a bit chubby.

Jo left.

Ignore Jo.

After a tribute from 9 that was another possible Pack tribute, Dean spoke a thought that had passed his mind a few times: "Maybe I can join the Career Pack."

Bobby bowed forward: "Do you have anything remarkable thing? You know. About you?"

"I can mine coal."

Bobby laughed and leant back in the couch: "I'll tell the other Mentors."

Dean nodded, he understood that the odds weren't really in his favour on this one.

They watched Caesar again.

"_So for 11, a strong young man and a sweet girl,_"

"_Well,_" his co-presenter said, "_I'm not impressed by those two._"

Caesar laughed: "_Chuck Shurley and Becky Rosen, we look forward to see you in action! Over to the last District, District number 12!_"

Dean stared at the telly as his District came on. Effie called Jo's name. They talked.

Dean closed his eyes when Effie pulled a card from the boys bowl. He prayed it would be different this time, even though he knew better.

"_Samuel Winchester!_"

He got up. "I'm going to bed."

"_Dean?!_"

He walked away, he didn't want to hear it.

"_Sammy? No! I volun-_"

The door shut behind him. There was a female Avox standing in the corridor.

"Can you tell me where my room is?" he tried to sound friendly, but his fight with Jo, the Reapings, made him sound blunt.

The Avox pointed to a door on the right, Dean went in.

"Good evening Mister Winchester," the lights turned on and a metallic voice greeted him.

"Shut up," Dean growled.

"If that's what you wish Mister Winchester."

The next morning, before breakfast, Dean entered Jo's room.

She was in a bathrobe, her hair combed backwards, still damp from the shower.

"They have a shower here! I never showered before!" She smiled.

Dean smiled back, he himself had spent a couple of hours in the shower cabin too.

"Would you mind closing the door?" Jo asked.

Dean turned around, nodding, when he heard the same metallic voice as yesterday.

"Of course Miss Harvelle," it said, and the door closed.

Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I'm sorry about yesterday."

Jo nodded, chewing on her whiteboard marker, "I'm sorry too, we're both a bit cranky I suppose."

Dean looked at the whiteboard.

"I'm trying to figure out who's joining the Career Pack," she said.

**Careers  
-Michael Desnato (1)  
-Ruby Lamior(1)  
-Gordon Walker (2)  
-Lilith White (2)**

**Alliances  
Chuck Shurley + Becky Rosen  
****Gabriel Laufeyson + Bela Talbot****  
Castiel Novak + Anna Milton**

"It's not much," she smiled. "Just writing down a couple of names, they kept roaming my head, I thought this could be the way to get them out."

Dean smiled: "You know what?" he took the marker and added two names to the 'Careers' list.

**Crowley King (8)  
Dean Winchester (12)**

"You want to join the Career Pack? And what's with the Crowley kid? Why would they want him?"

Dean shrugged: "I think Crowley is extremely cunning,"

"And you?" Jo raised an eyebrow.

"Usually someone from the Pack wins the Games." Dean nodded.

"But why would they let you in the Pack?" Jo asked. "No offense." She added.

Dean smiled. "None taken, since I don't know yet either. They don't need me for anything. But I need to win Jo. I must go back to Sammy."

Jo nodded and added two names to the 'alliance' list.

**Dean Winchester + Jo Harvelle**

Dean shook his head: "You know only one person is coming out,"

"That's the plan. Dean, I propose this: we team up and hunt down the Careers. My tracking skills are excellent but I lack strength. You are strong but you lack tracking skills. Once we eliminated all the Careers or we are with the last five Tributes, we separate and move the other direction. We hope we never meet again and if we do, we fight to the death."

Dean shook her hand, he met her gaze. There was a determent look in her strong, brown eyes. She pulled him into a hug.

"It's going to be you, Dean. Once I'm without you I'll die soon. I can survive and hide, but in combat I'm worthless."

Dean swallowed hard. That was the cold, hard truth, he knew it. He also knew that with his victory, if there was going to be one, Ellen would lose her only child, her last family member.

"I promise I'll look after your mom," Dean said. The undertone was 'I'm winning. You're going to die.'

Dean didn't know if he could kill Jo if he would meet her again in the Arena. He hoped he didn't have to.

"My name is Lucia!" a woman with black lashes longer than her purple hair danced into the room, following a cart with materials Dean didn't recognize. "And this is Horatius!"

Dean was sitting on one of those hard and uncomfortable bed doctors have.

"We are the Prep Team for District 12. At least, Portia's team," Horatius said. He had remarkably long nails for a man.

"What?" Dean said, shaking his head, "Prep team? Portia?"

Lucia laughed, a bit like Caesar, though not as royal. "Oh, sometimes I forget you're from the Districts! Portia is 12's stylist, she and Cinna, the stylist for the girl Tribute, design the costumes and hair styles you wear at the interviews and the Tribute Parade, which is this afternoon!"

With 'afternoon' her voice shot up high. Like she was asking a question or singing a song.

Dean remained silent. He didn't care about costumes and hairstyles. Actually, he just wanted to be in the Arena, slay the other Tributes and go back home.

"Well, I won't have a hard job with his hair," Horatius said, calculating, "Do you want me to help you with the waxing?"

"Waxing?"

They ignored him. Lucia nodded.

"If you wouldn't mind, please take off your clothes and take place on the table, so we can start washing you down." Horatius smiled.

"What? Like, all my clothes?" Dean stuttered.

Lucia nodded.

Dean saw no other way than to oblige. He undressed himself, tossed his clothes in a corner and awkwardly took place on the hard bed.

Lucia pulled a pair of tweezers out of her belt and enthusiastically started epilating Deans eyebrows.

"Keep your head still sweetheart, otherwise I'll have to draw them back on later." Lucia smiled.

"You can also just leave them where they are." Dean mumbled, but he was distracted by Horatius, who started scrubbing the first three layers of his skin off with scrub that probably had boulders in it.

"Are you trying to grow a beard?" Lucia asked, stroking the stubble on his jaw.

Dean shook his head. Actually, he was too lazy to shave and they didn't always have the money for razors. Plus, it made him look older, since there were not a lot of seventeen-years-olds with stubble that hard.

Lucia started shaving his stubble while Horatius waxed his leg hair.

"Au! Hey! What is that good for?" Dean protested.

"You have leg hair…?" Horatius stated, like it was something extremely obvious that he was asking for.

"Yes, and I'd prefer it to stay on my legs!"

Horatius nodded and started smearing the hot wax on his lower abdomen.

Dean felt it coming: "O no, not there, not there!"

Horatius pulled the strip and Dean gritted his teeth. "Son of a bitch," he muttered, almost inaudible.

"I've heard worse," Horatius smiled.

The two stylists scrubbed, waxed and washed him until his skin felt raw.

Before they excused themselves, Lucia gave him a soft bathrobe, like the one that Jo had been wearing the same morning and they told him that his stylist, the Portia girl, would come along soon.

Dean waited again, mindlessly stroking his not-so-hairy legs.

"As soft as a babies skin, ain't they?" a clear voice laughed.

The voice was followed by a lady with blond hair and heavy pink eye make-up, carrying a suitcase. She shook Dean's hand.

"I'm Portia, your stylist." She smiled sweet.

"Dean Winchester," Dean didn't even try to smile anymore.

Portia placed the suitcase on the hard bed carefully and opened it.

"Your costume for the opening ceremonies!" she smiled.

In the suitcase was a full body suit, neatly folded. When Dean pulled it out, he noticed how hard the material was. Almost like scales.

"It's your armour." Portia tapped the material, "You and Jo both want to win right? You don't see that very often from 12'ers. Cinna thought of making an armour completely out of coal."

She helped Dean in it. The material was so tight and hard that he could barely move in it. He told Portia.

"Well," she pursed her lips. "A) it's coal and B) it's supposed to be pretty, not practical. You only have to stand on that carriage."

Dean nodded

He followed Portia to the carriages, that were just outside, waiting for them.

Jo was wearing a similar suit to his, feeding sugar cubes to the horses.

Right before they mounted the carriage, a black man in black clothes walked towards them.

Dean couldn't help but stare. This was, by far, the most normal person he met in the capitol.

"Hey Cinna! We're here!" Jo waved.

"Well, ain't you glad to see him!" Dean smiled.

"Hey Jo," Cinna said. His voice was low, almost mesmerizing. "I forgot to give you two this."

He handed them two, bloodied pick-axes. Dean stared at them.

"Why weapons?" he asked.

"Well," Cinna said. "A man that wears armour needs a weapon."

A bell sounded. All the Tributes mounted their carriages, fixing their clothes and make-up for one last time.

"Good luck," Cinna said.

Panem's national anthem played and the horses trotted away, to the big lane leading to the Presidential Palace.


	3. And in this moment of silence

_And in this moment of silence,_

When they got of the carriage, Cinna, Portia and Bobby were waiting for them.

"Good job," Portia smiled, taking the pick-axes back.

"Yes, very bloody, exactly what the capitol loves." The chubby boy from 8 walked towards them. He was wearing a toga with a crown of cotton. "My name is Crowley King. I'm from district 8."

He had a weird accent Dean didn't recognize.

He shook Crowley's hand. "Dean Winchester. 12."

Crowley smiled: "Ah- wasn't that a rifle manufacturer? They produced rifles and shotguns, back when this was called the USA."

"Yeah-." Dean nodded. "How do you know?"

Crowley just kept smiling. He walked back to his Mentor, stylists and other tribute.

Behind them was the carriage of 7. The boy and the girl, Castiel and Anna, if Dean remembered correctly, were talking to their stylists.

He caught Castiels absent gaze.

Dean tried to smile reassuring, but it was if the boy was paralyzed, just like at the Reaping.

He did sort of react to Dean, Castiel waved. The awkward kind of wave, where you just raise your hand and move your fingers.

"Come on!" Effie walked towards them. "Let's go to our rooms, wash up and get some rest, we're training very early tomorrow morning!"

"We're?" Jo smiled, when they followed Effie to the elevators, waving their stylists goodbye. "Are you joining us?"

Later that evening, in Jo's room, she made a comment about his eye contact moment with Castiel.

"I don't know," Dean shrugged. "I was looking at him and he happened to look back. Coincidence."

Jo nodded: "That I understand, but we have to be careful with making friends. We need to select carefully."

Dean nodded. "I'm sorry. I won't interact with any other human beings than you, is that better?"

Jo laughed out loud. "Good, that's better. Now, for more important matters, would you like some food?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Food?"

"Yeah-" Jo shrugged, "I got really my-time-of-the-month this afternoon and well, I ordered some chicken wings and brownies over the intercom that talks back."

"You can order food over that thing?" Dean asked. He was impressed.

Jo laughed and pulled the remaining brownies out from under her bed and gave one to Dean. "Yes, what do you do with it?"

"I told it to shut up." Dean ate his brownie and returned to his room.

The next morning, Bobby woke him up with three loud bangs on the door. "Rise and shine boy!"

They had breakfast and when Dean returned to get dressed, there were clothes waiting for him on his bed. Someone had also tidied up the empty plates from last night. To check if the intercom thing really worked, Dean had ordered pie.

Dean got dressed quickly, the Capitol had given him cotton, black trousers, a t-shirt and a sweater. All the same material, all black and it all had the number '12' printed on it.

He joined Bobby and Jo in the elevator. Bobby waited until the doors had closed.

"Okay," He said. "Don't show 'em your strength."

Dean laughed: "That shouldn't be too hard."

Jo just nodded.

"I advise you not to skip the survival skills, you'll never know what kind of climate you're going to be up against and a lot of those idjits die because they refused to learn how to make a proper fire or set a proper trap. Good luck." He slapped them on the shoulders and they stumbled out of the elevator into the training hall.

They joined the small group of Tributes that were already there.

Everyone just sort of ignored each other, except for Crowley and the boy from 5, who had apparently found each other and were going by all the other Tributes, introducing themselves.

"Hello Dean," Crowley smiled. He pointed to his new friend. "This is Gabriel."

Gabriel was a small boy with a cheeky smile plastered to his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but a harsh, female voice cut him off.

"12, 8 and 5! Could I have your attention please?"

Crowley and Gabriel turned around.

"In less than a month, all of you but one, will be death. The lucky survivor is the one who paid most attention this week. There are five obligatory trainings: basic self-defence, basic survival skills, basic weapon training, skinning and preparing an animal and first aid."

They trained hard. Dean found out he was handy with setting traps and his strength gave him a head start in self-defence. His aiming skills, whether it was archery or spear throwing, were rubbish. He focused on getting better with a dagger, because it was most likely he could get him hands on one in the Arena.

Jo revealed to him that she hunted back in 12 (Dean already knew that), but she also told him her weapon of choice, a slingshot. She taught him how to make one, with two long, soft strokes of leather and one really hard patch, that you had to knead in shape. She sewed them together with a small thread and needle.

During lunch, the boy and girl from 7 joined them, carrying trays with soup, pasta and bread. It was almost inevitable the districts mixed, since there were 12 districts and seven tables.

Anna shook Dean's hand: "I'm Anna Milton."

Dean nodded and put his fork down. "Dean Winchester."

They already knew the names of the other Tributes, they had all seen the Reapings, but introduced themselves anyway. It felt more normal that way.

Dean knew Jo didn't approve, but he had no choice. He didn't want to be rude, not to these two.

Anna and Castiel sat down.

"Did your friend lose him tongue?" Jo asked.

"No, I didn't." Castiel said. This was the first time Dean heard him speak, really. He had a surprisingly low voice. "I elect to remain silent in most cases."

"Okay," Dean shrugged. He pointed to Castiels piece of bread, "Are you?"

He shook his head and Dean grabbed the slice.

"Why would you be silent all the time?" Jo asked.

Castiel just shrugged. "I can observe things better when I'm silent."

"Observe?" Jo laughed mockingly, "Okay Sherlock, take a shot."

"Only if you promise not to shoot back at me with that slingshot of yours." Castiel smiled.

Jo nodded: "Okay. I'm sorry. I thought I kept that silent."

"But I saw it."

"Just get it out of your head Dean! We're not teaming up with 7!"

"I don't see why not." Dean said calm. He was lying on Jo's bed, staring at the whiteboard. Jo was pacing up and down the room like a caged tiger. "Cas is smart and Anna is a babe!"

Jo snorted: "Go to Hell."

"Not yet," Dean grinned, "Be reasonable Jo, we could use two extra hands."

Jo shook her head. "Dean, I can't fight along two people and kill them a couple of days later. I can't."

"O, but you're okay with doing that with me? You can have my back one day and stab a knife in it the next, but not with two complete strangers?" Dean said offended.

"God damned Dean! Of course not. But I already know you. I can't just forget about our friendship. About the dead rat in Mrs Fletchers bag, the time I took you out in the meadow. We have been friends for most of our childhood." Jo sat down next to him. Her head in her hands. She groaned frustrated.

Dean just nodded. She was right, they had been friends until Jo's father had died. She didn't have a lot of time for him after that. He cupped his hands behind him head and smiled.

"What's so funny?" Jo asked, angry.

"I used to have a huge crush on you when I was eight or something. I tried to make a move a few times, but you kept me neatly into the friend zone."

Jo laughed: "Did you? I never noticed!"

"Our dads did, they were joking about it all the time." Dean got up. "I'm going to bed."

The week went by quicker than Dean wanted. They trained during the day, had lunch with 7 and chatted in Jo's room until late. Dean was good with a blade, he was fast and agile, but also strong.

At the end of the week, at breakfast, Bobby announced that they would be training alone with their Mentor all day long, and that there would be a private training session that very afternoon to get their scores from the Gamemakers.

After a quick discussion they decided it would be more efficient to train together, so Bobby could both train them for the interview and for the Games.

"Dean, hands up to your face!" Bobby wanted to start with boxing and had set up a ring.

Dean cashed one punch in the face and another one in the stomach from Jo.

"I don't like this sport!" Dean groaned. He tried to punch Jo back, but she was too quick. "I swear to God!" he pulled his gloves off and jumped on top of Jo, pinning her to the ground. "We won't have these bloody gloves in the Arena, will we?"

"Okay, enough with the boxing for today!" Bobby threw them two towels. "Jo, go practise with your slingshot and Dean, go take a shower, I think we're done for today. Wait upstairs so we can start media training."

Dean went upstairs and took a shower, changing into a fresh set of those bloody cotton clothes he had been wearing all damn week. He missed his jeans.

Bobby was waiting for him in the living room of their apartment.

"Dean," he started. "I need you to be sexy."

Dean started laughing. "Excuse me?"

"Well, it's completely reasonable. I talked about it with Jo, she thinks it's a smart move too. If you flirt with everyone, everyone will love you,"

"They'll think I'm a slut." Dean shook his head.

"Yeah-" Bobby shrugged. "In 12. But not in the Capitol. In the Capitol they will love you and send you money. They'll sponsor you, and you'll need sponsors."

Dean nodded. "Sexy. Okay." He chuckled. "I'm sorry Bobby. I just can't…"

"Well you have a handsome little face," Bobby said. "Imagine what my media profile was."

"Gruesome?" Dean smiled.

"No, I was funny."

Dean laughed: "You are!"

Bobby shook his head. "I was extremely nervous, but I got a few jokes out. Nobody got them because they were jokes from the Seam."

They practised for a while and when Jo joined them (she had been practising with Effie) they went down, to the training hall.

They waited with the other Tributes, in a small room with a couple of benches.

Everyone got called away slowly, until only Dean and Jo were left.

"What are you going to do?" Jo asked.

"I don't know," Dean shrugged. "Maybe I can show my skills with the dagger. I know I'm good with a gun too, but they won't get me any in the Arena."

"Don't throw." Jo nodded, "Don't."

"Dean Winchester. District 12." The intercom called.

"Here goes nothing." Dean walked to the training hall.

Seneca Crane was standing in the Gamemakers lounge. He raised his glass of red wine. A start sign.

Dean grabbed the dagger on a stand next to him and started attacking one of the dummies, then he threw some stuff around and showed the Gamemakers a few martial arts positions.

The bell rang and he walked back. He waited for Jo in the hall before the elevators.

She emerged from the same doors as he did, ten minutes later. There was a big, smug smile on her face.

"Tell me you didn't do anything stupid." Dean sighed.

"I did my slingshot thing. The rock then bounced off the dummy and into one of the Peacekeepers that was standing at the door." Jo giggled. "But it was an accident. They'll probably like give me a four or something."

"If you hit a Peacekeeper, why wouldn't they just give you a one?" Dean asked. He pressed the button that said '12'.

"Because I hit my first target, the rock just bounced off." Jo smiled.

Effie and Bobby were waiting at the dining table. There was still some time to have dinner before Caesar would call the points.

"How did it go?" Effie squeaked.

"Horrible." Dean shrugged. "I got nothing to show. I think I would've got a better score if I had just danced around in my pants."

He filled his plate with steamed carrots and steak.

"Okay- that's clear." Bobby said, "How about you Jo?"

"I tried to work the slingshot but I accidentally hit a Peacekeeper." She said, between two bites.

Bobby sighed: "Great. Idjits."

After dinner, they sat down in front of the television and watched Caesar.

"God- he's so annoying," Dean sighed.

"I bet you can't wait until the interview." Jo laughed.

_"Good evening ladies and gentlemen of Panem!"_ he said, with that big smile plastered on his face. _"Today, at their last day of training, all twenty-four Tributes had a chance to show them what they're worth! Let's take a look at their scores._"

A picture of the boy from one popped up. He had a skinny face, with blonde hair and small, tired eyes.

_"From district one, Michael, with a score of…"_ he paused for a moment, _"Nine!"_

He walked through the other Tributes. The girl from 5, Bela Talbot, had a high score too, one of ten.

_"Castiel Novak,"_ a picture of Castiel popped up, he looked confused. _"With a score of… three. O, that's not very high, is it?"_

"Why is his score so low?" Jo asked.

Anna had a score of eight.

Bobby shrugged: "Maybe he sucks. Maybe it's a trick, maybe he's trying to look weak and useless."

After Becky, who had a score of five, Dean's face popped up. His jaw was more muscular than usual.

"I think they photo shopped you handsomer, Dean," Jo laughed.

"Shut it." Dean growled.

_"Dean Winchester, with a score of… nine!"_

"Wow, Dean!" Effie smiled, "That's pretty high!"

"Sssh!" Dean said, he wanted to hear Jo's score.

_"Joanna Beth Harvelle,"_

"I wish he'd just say Jo." Jo sighed.

_"With a score of… eight!"_

Jo laughed, "I knew it would cost me points."

"Idjits."


	4. (The wind is still and no one is crying)

_(The wind is still and no-one is crying)_

The day before the Games, Castiel gave Dean a list with alliances. He didn't say anything else, he just wished him good luck.

"These are going to be your Games, Dean. Play them properly."

Dean wrote them down on Jo's whiteboard.

**Careers:  
Michael Desnato (1)  
Ruby Lamior (1)  
Gordon Walker (2)  
Lillith White (2)  
Gabriel Laufeyson? (5)  
Crowley King (8)  
Raphael Barnes (9)**

**Alliances:  
Castiel Novak (7) + Balthazar Damar (10)  
Gabriel Laufeyson (5) + Crowley King (8)  
Dean Winchester (12) + Jo Harvelle (12)  
Chuck Shurley (11) + Becky Rosen (11)**

Jo nodded. "11's not going to last long. They die in the slaughter at the Cornucopia. I don't know what Anna's odds are."

"I can't believe she and Cas split up." Dean murmured, chewing on the marker.

"I can't believe Castiel gave us the list of Careers and Alliances." Jo shook her head. "Why did he add the alliance Gabriel and Crowley? They are in the Career pack together."

Dean grinned, he had asked Castiel about this as well: "Apparently Cas eavesdropped on them yesterday. Gabriel is going to fake his death during the slaughter, then Crowley will get him to weapon and Gabriel will sneak up on the pack. It's how they plan to win the Games."

"But only one wins," Jo raised an eyebrow.

"One will turn on the other eventually." Dean shrugged. He didn't care.

There was a knock at the door. It was Horatius.

"It's time for make-up Dean."

Dean sighed and followed Horatius to a busy make-up room, full of other Tributes, stylists and make-up people. They got him dressed in a black smoking.

"Not with the coal tonight?" he asked Portia, who was shortening his right sleeve.

"No-" she said with her mouth full of needles. "We're going classy tonight."

She fixed his bowtie and took a step back. "Good, good," she smiled.

"Yeah?" Dean asked, a little insecure. He stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. He didn't know what to think of himself dressed up like that.

"Well, some kids your age look like boys in their father's clothes, but you look more mature."

She walked out into the hallway and he followed her to make-up. Jo was there already.

Cinna, her stylist, was applying smoky eyes and Flavia was putting her hair up in a messy knot.

Dean sat down in the chair next to her, and Horatius and Lucia started applying layers of make-up to his face. Portia did his hair, not that there was much to do about it, but she did her best.

"Are you looking forward to your interview?" Jo asked smiling. She was wearing a long, black dress with an open back.

"If Caesar starts about my brother, I will punch him in the face." Dean growled.

"You know he will," Jo smiled.

"And you know I won't punch him."

Portia released him from her custody and he offered Jo his arm.

"Look at us," She smiled, they walked to the green room. "All dressed up, like a turkey for Thanksgiving.

_"Uriel from District 3! Give him a warm round of applause!" _Caesar barked over the television.

After a while of watching interviews, Dean got bored. He left Jo on the couch and walked over to Castiel and Anna.

"Hey," he smiled,

Castiel smiled back. "Good evening, Dean."

"Looking forward to the Games?" Dean asked jokingly. Castiel didn't catch it though.

"No, not quite actually." He said confused.

Dean laughed.

Jo joined them, "Thanks a lot for the list, Castiel. It really helped us," she smiled, "But we don't understand your alliance with Balthazar."

Castiel nodded. "I understand."

_"Bela Talbot from district 5 ladies and gentlemen, isn't she beautiful?" _Caesar laughed over the television.

"Balthazar has a great potential. He is strong," Castiel continued. "I don't believe we will have a mild Arena this year, there is a new head Game maker who needs to impress the Capitol."

"Yeah, what was his name again? Something with a bird?" Dean asked.

"Oh! The guy with the Devil beard?" Jo nodded.

"Seneca Crane!" Dean and Castiel simultaneously said.

A Capitol lady in black clothes approached them. "District 7?" she asked.

Anna and Castiel nodded. The lady took their arms and practically dragged them to the edge of the stage.

Dean and Jo turned to the television again.

Anna's interview went by normal, she was chatting with Caesar about her chances, being lovely and all, and in the end he told her that he would like to see her win, like he said to every Tribute.

_"And now, also from district 7, Castiel Novak!"_

Castiel walked up the stage, dressed in a black suit and a blue tie.

_"Hello Castiel,"_ Caesar smiled.

_"Hello."_ Castiel said, staring absent into the distance.

Caesar put an arm around Castiels shoulders. _"So, do you have anything planned in the Arena? Any alliances, any idea of how you are going to win?"_

_"That's a rather stupid question,"_ Castiel frowned.

Caesar laughed: _"So, nothing planned, or a lot planned?"_

Castiel shrugged. _"We'll see what happens in the Arena tomorrow, won't we?"_

_"Okay, we will. So tell me Castiel, do you have made new friends here, that you might or might not be in an alliance with?"_

That made Castiel smile. _"I befriended Dean Winchester from 12, but the girl, Jo, seems rather distant to everyone."_

Dean face palmed: "What and idiot."

Anna just nodded, she looked sorry for Castiel, all alone on the big stage. "He can't help it, it's like he's from another world. Quite wonderful tough, because he always listens, he always knows where to be. Castiel is smart, but in his own way."

The lady in black came to fetch Dean and Jo and after Jo's interview, it was finally Dean's turn.

"Dean Winchester!" Caesar smiled bright and the audience cheered.

Dean flashed a charming smile at the audience and winked.

"Dean, might I just say you look fabulous," Caesar said.

"Ah, thank you Caesar," Dean smiled. "I hoped you would like it, it's thrilling to meet you!"

"But I think we are all a bit sad that you're not wearing your armour tonight." Caesar grinned.

"Well," Dean shrugged, "It was my stylist choice, she wanted to see me in a smoking."

"And right she was, because you look fantastic! Too bad you can't wear it in the Arena."

"I'd rip it quickly, and that would be a shame. But, when I come back, I'll wear it at the interviews, promise." Dean said.

"So you're going to win, Dean?" Caesar started changing the topic. He always did that, sliding from happy interview to what are your motives interview.

"Yes, I have to, Caesar." Dean said.

Caesar nodded, as if he understood how Dean felt. "Is that for your brother?"

Dean nodded, acting all emotional. "On the morning of the Reaping, I promised him he would never have to go in the Arena. I need to win, because if he gets pulled next year, or the year after, I can volunteer for him again."

"So you would do that, for your brother?" Caesar asked.

"For him, I'd volunteer a thousand times over." Dean nodded.

"Oh- for him, I'd volunteer a thousand times over," Jo said teasingly. She threw a piece of popcorn at Dean's head.

They were watching the recaps of the interview, because neither of them could sleep. Tomorrow, the Games were on.

"It's actually quite deep though," she said quietly after a moment. "That you'd win and then endure the Hunger Games again just for the sake of your brother."

Dean chuckled: "I read it in a book."

"You read books?" Jo laughed.

"All the time," Dean shrugged, "Since you started hunting I didn't have a lot of friends to play with. They all worked."

"Tell me the story." Jo asked. She muted the television.

Dean scraped his throat. "I don't entirely remember what it was about. It was an old book, about kites. It was set in a city or country called Kabul. I don't think it's in Panem, so maybe it's made up, like Narnia."

"Maybe it's old, from before Panem." Jo shrugged.

"I don't think we are allowed to read books from before Panem." Dean said.

"Narnia is from before Panem." Jo sat up. "It was the only book I read really, since we had to for class."

"But Narnia is made up."

"So is Kabul."

It was silent for a minute, Jo turned the volume back up and they watched Seneca Crane talk about the potential of the Tributes.

_"So, Seneca,"_ Caesar said, _"Who is this year's victor?"_

Seneca shrugged. _ "I wouldn't know. The Arena is very dangerous this year and there are many strong Tributes, also from the Districts further away."_

_"Yes- a volunteer in 12. Highly unusual, don't you think?" _Caesar nodded.

_"I wouldn't know what to think of him, but this is certainly a Tribute to watch out for." _Seneca nodded.

_"So he's your winner?"_

_"I don't know. He's has a lot of passion and I think that his enthusiasm to win might be his death. I think that the Tribute either dies in the slaughter at the Cornucopia or he wins the Games."_

Commercials.

"What are we going to do tomorrow Dean?" Jo asked.

"We try not to die." Dean shrugged.

"Dean, I'm serious." Jo sighed.

Dean couldn't resist. "Hi serious, I'm Dean." But he quickly apologized when Jo started hitting him on his chest. "Okay, okay," he coughed. "Jo, I need to go in the Cornucopia, I need weapons, you need a slingshot and we need to eat."

"But I can't go in, they'll slaughter me." Jo said.

Dean shook his head. "First thing we do, is run towards each other, then we go in and I promise I won't let you get killed."

Silence.

"I should go to bed." Dean got up.

"Dean?" Jo called him back.

"Yeah?"

"I don't want this to get weird in any way, but," Jo sighed. "I don't want to be alone tonight and I probably won't sleep anyway."

Dean sunk back on the bed. "Okay." Truth be told, he didn't want to be alone either. He didn't want to sleep either.

They climbed under the covers together and Dean grabbed the remote. "But I'm picking the movie."

After a couple of hours, Jo had fallen asleep anyway. Dean noticed that it didn't matter how hard he tried, he couldn't.

Even a three hour long documentary about a tree couldn't bore him to sleep.

Morning came quicker than he wanted though, Bobby knocking at the door at 7 A.M.

"Jo! Are you up?"

Jo shot up: "Yeah, yeah!" she shouted back.

"Okay- I'm going to get Dean, breakfast in ten minutes!"

"I'm here too!" Dean called, "We couldn't sleep, decided to watch a movie."

Jo got up and wrapped herself in a bathrobe, yawning. "When did I fall asleep?"

"Halfway through the second movie." Dean got out of bed too and they walked to the dining table.

Effie was staring at them with big eyes.

"Jeez, Effie, nothing happened! Isn't it sort of normal that people on death row don't want to be alone in their last night of safety? I still have a little thing called self-respect." Jo sighed. She poured syrup over her pancakes.

"Don't say that." Dean mumbled.

"Say what?" Jo asked.

"Death row. I don't want to think about the fact that we could be dead by the end of the week.

After breakfast, two Peacekeepers escorted them downstairs, to a big field with a helicopter on it. The other Tributes were there too.

They said their goodbyes to Bobby and Effie, they wouldn't be tagging along to the Arena.

"Thanks Bobby," Dean said.

"Don't thank me yet, the real Games start in an hour. Stay strong Dean and please remember that it is you, or them."

Dean nodded. Effie hugged him too and he climbed into the helicopter, after Jo.

They were strapped to their chairs, so they couldn't move during the flight. A woman with a big machine in her hand walked towards Jo.

"Your arm please." She said cold.

"What's that thing?" Jo asked.

"It's your tracker. So we can follow you in the Arena and keep track of your vitals."

Jo hesitatingly gave the woman her arm and she popped the needle in.

The helicopter landed and all the Tributes were taken to different rooms, where their stylists were waiting.

Portia was standing in the middle of the room, a set of clothes in her hand.

"Come on Dean, we need to hurry, platform up in thirty minutes."

Dean got dressed. For this year's Games, the Gamemakers had provided them with long, black jeans (JEANS!), a black t-shirt with the number 12 on it and a thin, long coat. It was sort of trench coat like, but not entirely, because you couldn't close it.

"No shoes?" Dean asked, staring at his bare feet.

Portia shrugged, quickly applying a thin layer of make-up to his face and doing his hair. "They didn't give me any, I checked, but it's not a mistake, no shoes in this Arena."

"Awesome." Dean said sarcastic.

"_One minute until take off._" The metallic voice said.

"Damn," Dean said, smiling, "She is everywhere, isn't she?"

Portia smiled back and hugged him: "Good luck Dean," she said in his ear. "Do you have your district token?"

Dean tapped the golden hanger Sam had given him, he hung it over the t-shirt. "There wasn't much to check about it, so they gave it back after as much as a glance. I'm glad I can take it."

"_Thirty seconds until take off._"

Dean stepped on the platform. "See you when I get back, Portia!" he smiled.

But when the platform rose and darkness surrounded him, he wasn't so sure about that.


	5. You whisper his name,

_You whisper his name,_

The first thing Dean noticed when his platform rose to ground level, was the darkness. The Cornucopia was standing tall and proud in the distance, in a beam of light. Dean blinked a few times to get his eyes used to his surroundings.

_Fifty-one.  
Fifty.  
Forty-nine._

Dean looked around, searching for Jo. She was three platforms away, in between the girl from 3, the girl from 6 and the boy from 11.

_Thirty.  
Twenty-nine.  
Twenty-eight._

They wouldn't pose a threat. Dean nodded to Jo. He tensed his muscles when something in the corner of his eye distracted him. The girl from 9, a redhead named Charlie, sneezed and fell off her platform. The mines around her exploded and the first canon boomed.

_Fifteen.  
Fourteen.  
Thirteen._

Dean stared at the dirt and blood around the girls platform.

_Nine.  
Eight.  
Seven._

Jo snapped him out of his trance. "Winchester!"  
He turned back towards Jo.

_Three.  
Two.  
One._

A horn called. Dean leapt off his platform, sprinting towards Jo. There was moss beneath his feet. Thank the Lord it weren't stones, that would have slowed him down enormously.

He passed the two Tributes (the third one had chosen to ignore the Cornucopia and was speeding towards the forest).

He bashed into Jo, blindly grabbing her wrist and they ran towards the Cornucopia together. They were the first to reach it and Jo grabbed two bigger backpacks, not looking at the content and two flashlights, while Dean stacked up on weapons. He found a slingshot and a small pouch with leaden bullets, blindly snatched a couple of daggers and turned around.

Just in time, Michael had grabbed the sword and he was raising it above his head, to slice Jo in two. Without even thinking about it, he threw one of the knives towards him, grazing Michaels arm and almost chopping Jo's nose off.

Michael turned to Dean. "Woops." He grinned. "You almost killed me there, Winchester."

He raised his sword again, but now to strike Dean down with one, killing blow.

Jo ran forward and kicked Michael in the knee, momentarily stunning him.

They ran out of the Cornucopia together, arms full with weapons. Dean saw Castiel standing at the mouth of it, he was fighting another pack tribute with a long, round and almost sword like silver dagger.

Dean caught his absent gaze again.

Castiel didn't seem to pay attention to the fight. He smiled to Dean. Dean wanted to smile back, but Jo dragged him back into running.

"Hurry up you asshat!" she scolded. "We don't have time for goodbyes."

They ran into the forest, where it was pitch black dark. There was no moon, there were no stars in the night sky.

"I wish there were stars at least," Jo sighed. She turned her flashlight on and gave the other one to Dean.

"Why?" He asked. He knew the answer though. He felt the same about it.

"Because I could navigate much easier with a couple of stars." She shrugged.

Dean chuckled. That wasn't the answer he was expecting.

"What?"

"I thought you were going to say something along the lines of 'The sky is so cold without her stars' or 'If I'm going to die, I want to die with the nightlights on.'."

Jo laughed.

They kept walking for a while, dividing the weapons on foot. Dean had been able to get hold of four daggers. He gave two to Jo, a really small one, for piercing through armour and a regular one, double-edged, with a brass hilt and a leather handle.

He kept the other two, a large one, with a wooden handle and an iron brass and a rather peculiar blade. It was double-edged too, one side was smooth, and the other was jagged. His other knife was also bigger, but not bigger than Jo's regular dagger and it had a similar blade and handle.

A canon boomed.

"Have you been counting?" Dean asked.

They had slowed down their frantic running to a fast walking pace.

Jo shook her head. "I tried, but I lost count."

They kept walking for a couple more hours, when they soft moss under their feet suddenly changed too wet sand. Dean could see rocks and mountains in the distance too. They had been walking towards the mountain for a while now.

"We're near water." Jo said.

Dean nodded. "Let's rest for a while. See what's in these backpacks."

It was still unbelievably dark, but they shut their flashlights off anyway, since they were just able to see enough to unpack their bags.

Deans backpack contained a box of matches, rope, night-vision goggles, blankets and some provision. Dried fruit, crackers, bread and an empty water bottle.

Jo's bag had a first aid kit, provisions and the bottle too and a long string of fishing rope.

"There's a lot of burn heal cream in here." Jo frowned, opening the first aid kit.

"Maybe there are some bad jokes included," Dean shrugged.

Jo re-packed her bag when she pulled up another item, one she had missed on her first sweep.

"Shoes!" she smiled. She was holding a pair of heavy, leather boots up.

"Good!" Dean smiled. "We'll need those if we're going to climb those mountains. What size are they?"

"Seven." Jo said.

"Oh- then you take them, they won't fit me," Dean said.

"Liar."

"Take them anyway."

Jo was putting the shoes on, mumbling something about sharing, when the anthem started playing and the sky lit up with Panem's eagle.

"I believe the slaughter is over." Jo said.

Dean looked at the crest, counting the Tributes.

The girl from 3.

"One."

The boy from 4.

"Two."

The boy from 6.

"Three."

The girl from 8.

"Four."

The girl from 9.

"Five."

The girl from 10.

"Six."

The boy from 11.

"Seven."

The girl from 11.

"Eight."

The Eagle, and then darkness again.

Dean jumped up. "Let's find water and shelter."

They started walking again, heading North (according to Jo).

"Look at that!" Jo pointed to a small group of fireflies that passed them on the left. They didn't appear to be shy at all.

"I wonder if you could eat them," Dean asked out loud. He reached out to catch one, but they voluntarily landed on his hand.

"Be careful Dean," Jo said, but it was too late.

Dean felt a stinging, burning sensation spread across his hand.

"Son of a bitch!" He swore. He wildly shook his hand to throw the fireflies off. Jo chased the others away by wildly flinging her flashlight around.

They ran towards the mountains, with the fireflies on their heels. They ran into the first cave they saw. It was damp, cold and possibly darker than outside, but the fireflies didn't seem to follow.

Dean sat down, panting. "_Fire_flies," he said, "Note taken."

Jo chuckled and grabbed her first aid kit. Dean inspected his hand under the flashlight. The burn was really ugly, as if the flesh had melted away to the bone.

Jo got the burn heal cream out.

"That's probably why they put so much of this stuff in the kit," She said, smearing it onto a bandage and wrapped it tightly around his hand.

Dean groaned.

"Don't be such a kid." She smiled. "I hope your skin grows back quickly. Or can you fight with left?"

"We'll find out." Dean said.

Jo looked around. "Maybe we can sleep here, I don't know what time it is, but I could do with some sleep."

Dean nodded. "It'll probably stay dark anyway. You catch some sleep, I'll take the first watch."

Jo rolled herself up in one of the blankets from their backpacks and wanted to give the other one to Dean, but he turned it down.

"You use it as a pillow or something. The cold in here will keep me awake and if it really gets too cold I can always step outside and warm up for a bit."

Jo rolled the blanket under her head and fell asleep. Dean kept watch, but nothing happened.

Now and then a white flash of fur ran by his feat, but he was too slow to catch a glimpse of what it was with his flashlight and since his encounter with the fireflies he was more cautious.

After a couple of boring hours, Dean hears two canons blast, quickly after each other.

"Dean!?" Jo awoke with a startle.

"Sssh! I'm okay Jo." Dean got up. "It's probably the pack."

Jo yawned and folded the blankets back in their backpacks.

"So what are we going to do?" She asked.

Dean scraped his throat. "I've been thinking."

"U-oh." Jo joked.

"And we've got two options." Dean ignored her. "We can climb up that mountain and hope there's some fresh water up there and a that hero will kill everyone plus himself for us, or we go and hunt the pack."

"I know that in the training centre we decided on hunting the pack, but at the moment I feel better with climbing up that mountain."

Dean nodded. "But then there's the problem of water."

Jo was silent for a minute, tying her shoelaces. "Why don't we check the back of the cave? It's freezing in here, there has to be a source."

Jo led the road, pointing her flashlight to the ground and cautiously checking for obstacles that could hurt Dean's feet.

After half an hour of stumbling through the dark, Jo laughed: "Water!"

She sunk to her knees, enthusiastically dipping her face in the cool stream. Dean smiled too and wanted to fill the water bottle in his bag, when Jo shot up, gasping.

"What?" Dean asked concerned. "What is it? Are you okay?"

Jo looked pale in the white light of Dean's flashlight. "Jo?"

She was gazing at her wrist and Dean followed her gaze with his flashlight. Her wrist was a mess of open flesh and blood.

"Shit," Dean swore. "How are you feeling Jo?"

"Fi- miz- dizzy…" She stuttered.

Deans mind worked as fast as he could. Los of speech could indicate poison. He quickly grabbed Jo's wrist and started sucking the blood out, spewing it out on the cold, stone floor when his mouth was full. It tasted sweet, not the way blood was supposed to taste. He kept sucking until Jo's blood tasted normal, metallic again.

Dean pointed the flashlight on the water and saw three long silver lines, like silk.

"Snakes." He breathed. "Sons of bitches."

"What?" Jo asked, still a little dazed.

Dean kept chasing them down with his flashlight and like anything in this Arena it was afraid of the light. He filled his bottle, slowly, cautiously, with his flashlight on the water. Bless Jo for snatching them, they would've been nowhere without those things.

He cleaned Jo's wound, like she did with his hours earlier. He chuckled.

"What?" Jo groaned.

"Well, we haven't seen another Tribute, yet we both managed to get ourselves wounded." He smiled, tying a knot in the bandage.

Jo groaned.

"Don't be such a kid." Dean smiled, recalling their earlier conversation.

"Shut up." Jo grinned. "Let's just hope you sucked all the venom out."

"Pleasure." Dean smiled. "I was thirsty anyway."

Jo got up. "Wait you swallowed it? That's disgusting!"

"Of course I didn't you idiot!" Dean rolled his eyes. "Why would I suck venom out of you to get it in my own system?"

"Oh, right,"

Dean sighed. "Okay, we got enough water for a couple of days, so are we going to climb that mountain or not?"

Jo nodded. "Maybe there's something behind that. Safety, refuge,"

"Light." Dean groaned.

They walked out of the cave (which took them a good hour, with Jo stumbling around like she was drunk) and when they exited, Dean gasped.

"Wha- O my God," Jo looked up, the sky was lit by stars that shone bright like a thousand candles.

"I bet it's night," Dean said. "But there's still no moon."

"But the weird thing about this is, the stars also shine during the day, but the sun is too bright so we can't see them." Jo said. She clicked her flashlight off, the stars were bright enough to light the path and there was no use in spilling batteries. Dean followed her example.

She nodded, tugging at her bandages. "Okay. Let's see if we can find a path that leads up the mountains."

"I bet there's monsters up there, like poison rabbits or rabid dogs." Dean whispered, following Jo.

"Mmh-" she said, "I could eat three rabbits."


	6. in fervent prayer

**Hey guys, srry for the long wait, my laptop broke down and I have only gotten a new one yesterday. Here's the new chapter, enjoy and review!**

* * *

_in fervent prayer._

They walked up the mountain, until the stars had disappeared in the black sky again.

"It frightens me," Jo said. "The sky is so black. It's not even dark blue, it's just like we're the only ones in the universe. You get it. It's so dark- so absolute."

"Are you okay Jo?" Dean asked.

She turned around and almost stumbled off the shallow path. "Wow- hey, how are you feeling?"

"Dizzy," She said.

Dean nodded. "Let's sit down, okay? Let's sit, and eat and drink and sleep for a bit, that a good idea?"

They sat down on a rock, and after he gave her a piece of dried peach to keep her busy, he checked her wound.

It had started to stink like rotten flesh. Dean hastily searched through their first aid kit, but there was no other stuff than the burn ointment. He cleaned the wound with a little bit of water and wrapped fresh bandage around it, with the cream on it. It was better than nothing, right? He took off his own bandage too and saw that his wound was closed, there was still a hole in his hand from where the flesh had burned away, but the skin had grown back already, even though it was still a bit reddish. He didn't wrap new bandage around his hand, just applied some of the cream, hoping it would heal better in the open air.

"You should get some sleep," Jo said.

"I'm fine," Dean said. He wasn't, he was tired as Hell, but he didn't want to sleep.

"You haven't properly slept in three days, maybe even four, just try, I'll wake you up in a couple of hours okay?"

Dean was so tired, he quickly gave in. He placed one of the blankets on the hard, stone ground, because, even though they climbed all day and had reached a higher altitude, it was still smothering hot.

He rested his head in Jo's lap, like they used to do in the Meadow, and she hummed a song, stroking his temple's as he dozed off into a dreamless sleep.

_"Oh Mamma, I'm in fear for my life from the long arm of the law.  
Lawman has put an end to my running and I'm so far from my home.  
Oh Mamma I can hear you are crying, you're so scared and all alone.  
Hangman is coming down from the gallows and I don't have very long."_

When he woke up, he was still lying in Jo's lap, but she had stopped stroking his temples. She was staring at the stars.

"The nightlights are on," she smiled to him.

He got up, rubbing his head. "You said you'd wake me up after a couple of hours."

"I didn't specify how many hours." She shrugged.

They had breakfast (or lunch or dinner, Dean would kill to know the time) and wanted to get going again, when Jo noticed his feet.

They were bruised and bloody from walking on these goddamned stones all the time.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She said.

"Because there is nothing we can do about it," He shrugged, sipping from the water bottle. "Let's get back on the road." He looked up the mountain, "We can almost see the top! I bet we can climb it in a couple of days."

Jo smiled and nodded, she looked tired.

"Do you need to sleep?" Dean asked.

She shook her head. "No, I'm just- the heat wears me down and my wrist feels weird."

They started walking again, Dean was biting on his lip not to groan. Every time he put his foot down, a jab of pain pulled up his legs.

He saw Jo was doing the same, clenching her wrist.

They had been walking for a couple of hours when the Eagle appeared in the sky. Panem's anthem played and they showed the pictures of the ones that had died that day. It was a short list, the boy from 2, the boy from 3 and Crowley.

"Too bad Crowley is dead." Jo said.

"You don't mean that," Dean smiled.

"Nah I don't but we might be live on television." Jo shrugged.

They got up and continued their journey up the mountain, climbing up the path. It got steeper and steeper and sometimes the path changed into steps and then back into steep path again.

The stars were fading when they reached a platform.

"Let's rest here for the darkness." Dean said. His voice sounded rough and husky, like he hadn't spoken in days.

Jo nodded. She tried to sit down, but was too tired to control her movements and fell.

"Jo?" Dean said concerned. He sank down next to her.

She was shaking all over, like she was having a bad fever.

"Show me your wrist," Dean said, it was a demand, not a question, so when Jo tried to cover her wrist with her hand he clawed it out of her grip. It wasn't hard, she barely had any strength.

"I'll be fine," she muttered, trying to pull back, "I just need to eat something."

Dean let go of her wrist, grabbing one of their packs and gave her the dried fruit. "Compromise," he smiled, "You eat, I check your wrist."

Jo held out both her hands. Dean put the fruit in the first one and grabbed the other one for inspection. He unwrapped the bandage and held his breath when the stench of dead meat filled his nose.

"I guess the burn heal cream didn't work," He smiled weakly. "Oh- Jo, what have we gotten ourselves into?"

Jo didn't respond, she slowly chewed on the dried plums.

_We're going to die,_ he thought, but he immediately tried to shake it away. They were still alive, and that counted. They were still alive thanks to his reaction skills and the backpacks.

They spend a weary night (day) on the ledge. Jo had caught a fever halfway through and Dean just wished they would never had climbed the goddamn mountain.

He had torn a piece of off his trench coat and dapped it in their drinking water. Dean carefully tried not to spill any of their precious water.

He cooled Jo's forehead with the damp cloth. Dean lent forward and touched her neck with his dry, cracked, lips. It's what his mother used to do when he or Sammy had a fever.

His lips didn't even have to touch her skin to feel the moist heat radiating from her body.

She tried to slap the cloth away. "I'm cold, don't put a cold cloth on me when I'm cold,"

Dean shrugged his coat off and forced it on Jo, wrapping her in the two thin blankets they got from the Cornucopia.

When he was done wrapping her up, she allowed him to cool her head and neck with the cloth.

"We're going to wait for the starlight and then I'm going to carry you down the mountain," Dean said.

Jo nodded and fell into a restless sleep.

After half an hour of dapping and cooing, Dean considered leaving her.

He cursed himself. He couldn't leave Jo to die, he knew he would never forgive himself.

But she was going to die. Obviously the poison was going to kill her and if it wasn't the fever, it would be another Tribute when they were found.

A couple hours of conspiracy later, Jo woke up.

"Pa?" she whispered husky.

"No, it's me," Dean shook his head, "Dean."

Jo smiled, she moved her hand but didn't have the strength to lift it up.

"Dean is a good guy," She said, "He shared lunch with me yesterday,"

Dean remembered that, it had been the first day of school and his mother had given him some bread and cheese for lunch. That was the day he realised that they had a good life, with food and warm clothes and coal for fire. Jo had been sitting on a stone wall, flesh and bones.

He had joined her on the wall, and gave her what was left of his lunch, the rest of his bread and the cheese. She had asked him if he wasn't hungry and he had claimed that he didn't like cheese.

He bet she didn't even have breakfast, she wolfed down the loaf and the cheese, smiling at him and thanking him. That had been the day they became friends and from that day on Dean and Jo had lunch together.

A couple of weeks after that he had fallen in love with her.

Jo kept babbling, about school, about Dean, about her father and the Games. She was delirious and had no idea what she was talking about, or who she was talking to.

Dean barely responded. He kept cooling her forehead, nodding and saying 'uhum' and 'yes' every once in a while.

The wound got dirtier as the night went by and right before the stars came up, Jo reached her ground zero.

"Dean," she whispered.

"Yes, Jo," he said absent. He changed the cloth, they were almost out of water.

"Why don't you just leave me here to die?" she sobbed, "Why nurse me back to health?"

"Because I care about you Jo," Dean said, tired. "And because your mom would kill me if I leave you behind."

"But what's the use?" Jo groaned frustrated. "I'm going to die anyway. And it's so goddamn dark in here, I wish there was a sun, or a moon, at least. I have no idea what the time is."

"You shouldn't talk like that," Dean shook his head. "Come on, let's go. We should get back to the river, the water bottles are almost empty and there is no path up anyway."

Jo motioned to her feet. "Take the shoes. If you're carrying me you need the shoes."

Dean softly worked them off her feet. He was tying the shoelaces when he heard a soft noise coming down the mountain. It was a soft clicking, like something was clacking it's teeth together.

Dean moved the contents from the smallest to the biggest pack, giving the empty one for Jo to hold.

He strapped the other to his back, hung his knives on his belt and secured Jo's sling and bullets to his belt too. She wasn't going to defend herself anytime soon.

He was busy tying the backpack to his torso when he heard Jo scream for help.

"Dean? Dean!"

It was a scream of pain and fear. This wasn't the fever.

Dean pulled his dagger, the big one with the clip point blade and ragged side. He dropped the empty bag and turned around.

Jo was surrounded by black scorpions, swirling over her like a dark cloud of smoke.

Dean lunged himself towards her, praying the scorpions weren't venomous when he felt the first pair of jaws sink in his ankle.

He literally had to dig Jo out from under the scorpions and when he finally succeeded, she was covered in little bites that were bleeding clear, red blood.

_Red blood is good, right?_ He thought.

He swung Jo over his shoulder and started running, down the path from where they came. Dean could hear the scorpions follow them, teeth clacking violently.

He looked over his shoulder and saw the flock of scorpions rapidly closing in.

"Hell they're fast!" he swore, and he kept stumbling, tripping and almost falling down the mountain path at Gods speed, while he felt the blisters and wounds on his feet rip open.

For the first and probably the last time in his life he thanked the horrible circumstances in 12, that had malnourished Jo and made him stronger by making him mine all day long. It made it easier for him to keep up the fast, almost frantic running with a girl on his shoulder.

When the clacking died out, he slowed his running to a trot.

"Not- comfy-" Jo breathed.

Dean didn't even stop to shrug her in front of his chest, holding her back and her knees.

"Not carrying me over any doorstep, are we?" She smiled weak and pale.

"Getting your wits back, are we now?" Dean smiled, happy that she was with him again.

He trotted for a couple of hours, until he got tired and started walking. Jo suggested resting and letting her walk for a while, but he refused.

"We're getting out of range of those goddamn scorpions first."

Her bleeding had stopped, since she was lying still, but Dean's little wounds had kept bleeding. It didn't matter, they were only superficial and he didn't feel any poison running through his veins.

All of a sudden he felt a cold breath of air pass his ear.

"Shit!" he swore as he hit the deck, almost crushing Jo underneath him. She swore too.

"Shush," he silenced her.

"Balthazar, watch out," they heard a voice say.

"That's Castiel," Jo murmured.

"Yeah-" Dean nodded.

"Why, Cassie? Nobody is out here anyway, we haven't seen no goddamn Tribute for two goddamn days, since we left the _goddamn_ Cornucopia. We've just been following this trail!"

"Don't call me 'Cassie'." Castiel said. His voice changed into a whisper and Dean couldn't follow the conversation anymore.

So Cas and Balthazar had been following their trail. Obviously, since there was only one way to get to the platform and that was this, and there was no one else up there. That could mean two things: they were going to kill them or they were going to try and team up.

Dean knew Jo was never going to team up with these two.

Cas and Balthazar had been talking for a while now, their voices an inaudible murmur, when Dean suddenly heard the sickening noise of clacking jaws behind them.

They were trapped between the scorpions and two other Tributes, whose motives were unknown. They didn't seem to hear the clicking.

"Dean- we need to run," Jo whispered.

Dean tried to swallow the lump in his throat. So now there were two options. Get killed by a flock of huge ass black scorpions or probably get killed by two other Tributes.


End file.
